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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

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delicate - chapter one: someone new

3.4k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

summary: Sarah decides it’s time for her dad to start dating again. Joel isn’t sure he needs to, but decides if it’s for Sarah, he’s willing to give it a go. After a few failed attempts, he finally stumbles across someone new.

A/N: This is the first chapter of a new fic co-written with @thetriumphantpanda - we’re both so excited for you all to finally read what we’ve been working on. You’ll be able to find the masterlist on both of our Tumblrs, and we’ll be taking turns in posting chapters, so if you want to keep up to date with posting, please make sure you’re following us both!

warnings: Joel being terrible at dating apps, mentions of being a single parent, flirting, rom-com vibes, allusions to more mature themes but nothing explicit as of now, foul language, mentions of food & alcohol, Sarah & Tommy being menaces.

“Dad, have you thought about settling down soon?”

Joel had nearly just sat down at the dining table, a warm bowl of chili stinging his hands as he set down a glass of water with a quiet huff.

“Am settled down.” He grumbled, diving straight into the warm bowl with ferocity.

Sarah sighed quietly and circled her fingertip over the rim of her water glass.

“I mean,” she tries again, “settled down with someone.”

Sarah knows this is a weird topic to bring up over dinner. She can see it in the way her father stops chewing on his food, his water glass halfway to his lips now frozen midair.

Since she was a small girl, her father’s world revolved around her. She put the sun in the sky and the smiles on his face. He put her through years of soccer practice and clarinet lessons, drove her across the state for tournaments, and made her favorite dinner when it was her birthday. She was his little girl.

Sarah knew she had a very loving father, always lucky in that regard, but that love felt a little lost when she started attending university. All she could think about was leaving her dad in an empty house with no one to cook for, no one to bug about cleaning their room. He didn’t have anyone besides Uncle Tommy. And Sarah was sure that was the last person he wanted to spend his free time with.

Fresh from graduating with a bachelor’s degree in biology from Texas State University, Sarah opted to live at home for a year in the hopes of saving up money for med school. And perhaps she could complete the side quest of finding a potential date for her dad.

Joel clears his throat and wipes his hand on a paper towel, smearing it a reddish-orange from the chili.

“Don’t need anyone else when I’ve got you, peanut.” He gave a lopsided smile and continued eating.

Why would she ask something like that? Why was she thinking about finding someone for him?

Joel thought of himself as an independent man. Never went looking for love, going on about his business, so why start now?

Sarah looked unsure of what to say next, wanting to push the conversation and letting that uncertainty fill the air between them.

Joel sighs, his spoon sputtering in the bowl and listening to it clang around the rim.

“You don’t gotta worry about me, kid. I’m fine on my own.” He insisted, shrugging casually.

“Uncle Tommy and I were talking about you, more specifically about you dating-”

Joel buried his face in his hands, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh as he ran his hands down his face, calloused palms scraping against beard stubble.

“Sarah, what did I tell you about talkin’ to Uncle Tommy? Take nothin’a substance from those conversations.”

“Dad, please.” His little girl was frowning now, desperate puppy dog eyes searching his own. “How bad would it be if Uncle Tommy and I put you on a few dating apps, y’know? You could meet a nice woman, take her out for dinner, do whatever you want, but you can’t not try anymore.”

Joel snuffed out a scoff, quickly dialing it down once he was receiving daggers.

“Peanut, ya just… you get to a certain age where you give up on that type of stuff. Love n’all. M’an old dog, been outta the game for too long.” Joel returned to his dinner, thinking the conversation was done and over with.

Sarah let out a heavy breath through her nostrils and crossed her arms. “Dad, we’re finding you someone, or at least we’re going to try. You can’t just-just shrug off your feelings!”

Sarah’s chair scraped backward, standing up suddenly and commandeering the room.

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. What happened with Mom was a long time ago. You can’t shut off trying to find love. I saw you go on two dates when I was growing up. Two! You can’t say you’ve tried, you can’t say you don’t want it, everyone wants to find their special someone. And you,” she said with wide, frantic eyes. “You are not done trying. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Joel sat in silence as Sarah retrieved her bowl of chili and glass of water, fleeing up the stairs to her room. He sat back in his chair, shifting his jaw from side to side in thought.

Guilt festered in his chest. Seeing Sarah so adamant about something like his love life was telling it was something she thought a fair amount about. She worried about his happiness, his life alone.

Though he thought a life of solitude worked well for him, he couldn’t deny that small part of him that wished he had someone to share the little moments with. Sarah wouldn’t be living at home forever, and she would never be replaced in Joel’s heart, but maybe she was right that it was time for him to start trying again.

“Okay, so I downloaded Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, eHarmony, and Farmer’s Only.”

Sarah paraded around Joel’s smartphone, downloading different online dating apps left and right while he watched helplessly beside her on the couch. He could feel a headache spark in his temple already.

“M’not a farmer.”

Sarah simply shrugged and opened up the first app, Tinder. “True, but we’re trying to keep our options open.”

Joel sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions, hearing the front door open without a knock. His brother, Tommy, paraded inside, a six-pack of beer in his hand and a jean jacket in the other.

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Joel asked as he saddled his hands on his knees and pushed himself off the couch, eyes narrowed on his younger brother.

“What? You think I would miss Sarah putting you up for auction?”

“Hey,” Sarah said defensively, disliking that her Uncle Tommy was making fun of her genuine attempt to find Joel a woman. “Don’t make him feel bad. It took several hours of convincing just to get him to hand me his phone.”

Tommy sneered and plopped down into Joel’s recliner, cracking open a beer despite it only being late afternoon. Hell, he might need one too.

“Okay, Dad, focus. We need to fill out some of the Tinder prompts.” Sarah patted the section of the couch beside hers, Joel joining her after a few grumbles of resistance.

“Prompts? What sorta prompts?” He asked, craning his neck to look at the phone screen she held up in her hands.

“Prompts to get to know you better. You know, like, what are your likes and dislikes, what are you looking for in a relationship, where would you want to take someone for a first date,” Sarah continued the list until Tommy’s chuckle broke her concentration.

“Ain’t Tinder for hookin’ up with chicks?” Tommy asked, making Joel’s head snap to Sarah.

“Sarah, the hell are you doin’ to me?”

“It’s not just for hookups, dad-”

“Yes, it is.” Tommy snicked, making Sarah glare at him.

“C’mon, we’re trying everything to see what sticks.”

Joel felt rather hopeless about the whole ordeal. They added pictures, and Sarah crafted answers for his prompts. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing with the whole left, right, swiping action. At one point, he expanded the age search by accident and didn’t realize it the next morning until he got a very forward message from a young woman.

Hey, good looking ;) you look like a big man in more ways than one, if you catch what I mean… how about you come over to mine and show me a good time, I bet we can make it fit if we try hard enough.

Joel storms into the kitchen, shoving his phone at Sarah’s face, “Take that damn app off,” He demands, “It ain’t for me.”

“What did she say to you?” Sarah snorts, taking the phone from him, Joel watching as she holds her finger on the icon until it wobbles.

“That ain’t for you to know,” Joel shakes his head, “Just delete the damn thing off my phone.”

He watches as Sarah presses the cross in the corner of the icon, making a mental note of how he can delete the rest of them later when she’s not watching, she hands his phone back to him, taking a sip of orange juice, whilst he pockets the phone.

Despite his first attempt at dating apps failing horribly, he was intrigued. A lot of the women out there were beautiful, some with children of their own from past relationships just like him.

Joel was trying to watch the first Dallas Cowboys pre-season game with Sarah when his phone buzzed with a notification. It was just one of those that stated he had potential matches out there on Bumble.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, flicked his eyes up to the television screen, and clocked he wasn’t missing anything before he opened his phone.

A few profiles later, he landed on a woman he found with a nice smile. He read through her profile, even letting out a quiet chuckle.

Sarah’s eyebrows were drawn together with curiosity, watching her father smile goofily at his phone.

“What’s goin’ on with you? You’re scaring me.” She teased as she pushed herself off the couch and leaned over his shoulder to see he was actually on one of the dating apps. A small sense of pride filled her.

“I like ‘er. Got a nice smile, funny too.” Joel affirmed with a nod. He swiped like he was directed to, but then there was nothing.

His face fell, smile and happiness swirling down the drain as he grew frustrated.

“How the hell do I message ‘er?” He asked, neck craning as he held up his phone to Sarah, his silent way of asking for support.

“You can’t message women first on Bumble. They have to like you back and message you first.” Sarah said with a shrug, snagging her dad’s beer from his hand and taking a quick swig.

Joel was only scowling in disappointment and frustration. “Y’mean, I can’t even talk to ‘er? I can’t be a proper gentleman and make the first goddamn move?”

He grunted in annoyance, swiped back his beer, and threw up the glass bottle to drain the last of its contents as he deleted the app. “Sick of these damn datin’ apps already. None of them are worth a damn.”

Sarah sighed quietly and found her way back to the couch, nervousness settling inside of her. He wasn’t a very disagreeable person, in fact, her dad was neutral about a lot of things. What did he want to have for dinner tonight? Anything was fine. Which movie did he want to watch? He didn’t care, said she could pick. So why was he finding so many excuses with the apps? Not even the women, but the apps.

Part of her thought about him trying to find a woman the old-school way, but he was maybe too out of the game to brush up a conversation with a random stranger. He might fail miserably, but maybe it would help with his confidence. He only had a few apps left, ticking off one by one.

Joel stared at the ceiling, encapsulated by the slow-circling fan overhead. Darkness laid a dark veil over his bedroom, a sliver of moonlight being cast through the window. His head laid back into the pillows, jaw ticking from side to side as he lay wide awake. He lightly scratched his chest, feeling the dark hair that clustered at his sternum as his head rolled to the side and read the digital numbers on his clock.

Another sigh left his parted lips. It was late, far too late for someone who worked the early mornings to be awake. At least tomorrow as Friday.

His phone vibrated gently on his nightstand, a little chime he wasn’t accustomed to. He plucked his phone from the charger and squinted at its brightness, sitting up on his forearm to read the text. It was a message from a woman on Hinge. They had matched.

Joel grunted and stared blankly at his lock screen until it went black with inactivity. No. Just go to sleep, Joel. Forget about it. He set his phone on the bed and laid on his side, digging his cheek into a pillow and forcing his eyes closed. Well, what was she doing awake at this hour?

He opens his phone, clicking on the ‘H’ icon with its tiny red notification dot. He pays no mind to reading the message yet, instead clicking onto the mystery womans profile. The first picture is one of her wrapped up in a big coat, plaid scarf wrapped around her neck with a bobble hat and something warm clasped in her hands - it looks like she’s in a big city from what he can tell from the blurry background behind her, but he notices how happy she looks - big grin plastered on her face that reaches all the way to her eyes.

Scrolling further down her profile, he finds the first prompt ‘Best Travel Story’ - her answer reading about a time she’d been hiking with her family. She likes the outdoors Joel thinks - something he and Sarah also enjoy, but he shakes his head before he thinks too much about a third person he can take hiking. There’s another photo then, clearly taken in the summer - she’s in a lovely dress, sitting at a table with a young boy on her lap, perhaps a nephew? He tries not to imagine that he’s stumbled across another single parent, what good luck that would be.

Joel doesn’t make it much further down her profile - just to the section with all of her basic information. She’s around his age, shorter than him but not by much, she’s got a yes next to drinking, but a no to smoking and drugs, and she works in marketing. A steady job, he thinks. He’s praying, silently, that when he clicks back to her message, she’s sane.

Good evening Joel! Sorry for such a late message, I’m a slight insomniac. I love your profile, you seem lovely! How are you doing this evening? (Or this morning depending on when you read this!)

The corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile. A slight insomniac who thought he was quite lovely. Her words, not his. Maybe asking Sarah for help on his profile wasn’t such a bad idea. His fingers twitched above the keyboard, but he was unsure of what to say next.

Joel sat up in bed, about to shove the covers off his lap and ask Sarah for help, when he took another look at his digital clock. It’s too late to wake her, he thinks. He’ll have to craft a response on his own. He dreads it, words never really being his strong suit. Would he look creepy if he replied this late back?

Looks like we’re both slight insomniacs. Besides being unable to fall asleep, my evening was fine. How are you doing tonight, ma’am?

Joel sighed and stared at his response, picking it apart and cursing under his breath. Now, he was wide awake.

Ma’am? Way to make me feel 101… charming though, I like it ;) I’m doing okay, thank you. Just enjoying the only peace and quiet I get before I go to sleep. What’s keeping you up then, Joel?

Joel’s face crumpled, pushing a hand through his hair after reading his response over and over again. He meant it in a gentlemanly way, not to make her feel old. He really screwed the pooch on that one. Nipping at his lower lip, he tried again.

No offense intended ma’am, I’m just a Southern man is all. Don’t mind about what’s keeping me up, I want to know about you. You don’t get much peace and quiet until midnight? How’s that?

None taken, just not used to someone being a gentleman on these things - normally at this point someone would be asking for a picture of my tits so you’re doing well so far. It’s usually my son that keeps me up, he’s been asleep a while but I only get so much time to clear up after him, so midnight is me time once that’s all done. You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s keeping you awake?

Joel’s smile only grew larger as she responded, and rather quickly, too. He imagined they looked quite similar right now. Different towns, different houses, both curled up in bed and staring at their phones, waiting for the other to reply. He wondered if she was smiling like he was, trying to push away an undeniable flutter in his stomach. Making him feel like a damn teenager.

His face softened at her response. My son, she said. That boy on her profile, with chubby cheeks and a toothy smile, a head full of hair, and glee all over his face, was her son. She was a mother, just like he was a father. He wondered if she saw the young woman in his pictures and knew that was his daughter, Sarah. How could he subtly drop the hint?

Those aren’t gentlemen, just boys. Sorry to hear they were wasting your time. I understand your limited personal time. When my daughter Sarah was young, my alone time consisted of sitting in the truck during her soccer practices and after she went to bed. It’s not easy. What’s keeping me up is partially Sarah’s fault. She’s the one who urged me onto Hinge. I don’t really know what I’m doing, to be honest. Just know a pretty flower when I see one.

Is Sarah the young girl on your profile? She’s beautiful if so, you must be so proud of how she’s grown up. Well Joel, you don’t seem clueless, you’re keeping my attention pretty well, especially calling me pretty, I might be blushing. What made her decide now was the time for you to start dating?

He’d never admit it if anyone asked. But it looked like he still had that Southern charm, you never really grow out of it. He reached over and plucked the string to his lamp, sitting up against his bedframe and sipping on a glass of water as he read over her reply again and again. He had a fondness for the way she complimented his baby girl. She got extra points for that.

Yep, that’s my Sarah. She’s going to med school next year, couldn’t be prouder. I suppose she graduated from college and thinks she knows everything now. Thinks I need a love life. I think she’s felt this way for a while, but she knows I’m stubborn. What’s your son’s name? Looks like a good kid.

Smart and beautiful, you must have very good genes Joel. That’s incredible though, I can imagine how proud you are of her. Well, I for one am pleased she’s pushed you here, you seem a really nice guy Joel. My son is Noah, he’s seven so full of beans, I’ve never known anyone have so much damn energy!

And you seem like a real nice woman, ma’am. Sarah had so much energy at seven, that’s when I put her in soccer to run all that damn energy out of her.

His fingers hesitated, typing out the message but not quite pressing send. He liked her. He liked how sweet and funny she was. Plus, she understood what it was like to have a kid, someone who would always be put first.

Since it’s technically 12:57, are you doing anything tonight? Is having a drink okay for a slight insomniac?

Well, thank you very much Joel. I have a feeling Noah and Sarah would have gotten along well if they were the same age, he’s just started soccer practice for that very reason. And, lucky for you, Noah has an evening with his grandparents tonight, so a drink sounds lovely. Just let me know a time and a place.

His heart was thumping in his chest, a tired little grin on his face as he offered to take her to The Aristocrat Lounge on the North side of Austin. They settled on seven, enough time for Joel to get home, shower, and convince Sarah to help clean him up a bit. A daunting feeling pressed into his chest, making his breath snag tight in his lungs. He was nervous, those strange butterflies still fussing around. He shoved them down, persistent on ignoring the feeling.

It’s a date. Try to get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, ma’am.

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holdmytesseract · 1 year ago

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The Price of Love

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N

Summary: You convince Loki to take you with him on a charity event, together with some other Avengers. What starts as a nice and exciting little trip to Canada, ends in a nightmare...

Warnings: pregnancy things/symptomps, overprotective Loki, almost nudity? thirst, suggestive smut?, swear words, Loki being the best hubby and dad possible, angst - quite a lot of angst, guns, bad people, violence, fighting, injury, blood, Loki going FERAL and being a bit... brutal, death, fluff

Word Count: 7,9k

a/n: Here it is, guys! The (almost) 8k words Baby Fever rollercoaster ride. 🫡 Yep... I went absolute bananas with this one. 😂 I love every bit, though. 😁 The story behind this fic? Well... @iamlokisgloriouspurpose made a post about a story she was looking for (some of you might remember) a few weeks ago. It was something about Loki x pregnant!reader, where she accidentally gets hit or something and Loki is overprotective, etc. She couldn't find the fic and I was like: Hey, would you want me to write something along that? And @iamlokisgloriouspurpose was like: Heck yeah! Well, here we are. You know how much of a sucker I am for such things... I couldn't resist. 🤷🏼‍♀️👀 Anyways... I hope y'all like it! 😁

Baby Fever Crew: Tagging y'all again in the comments! 😊💚

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"No, love, absolutely not," Loki stated; shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. "I won't allow that. Not in your condition. You rather stay here with Ella."

You raised an eyebrow, and put your hands on your hips. "In my condition? Babe, I'm pregnant! That's not a condition. I thought you knew that?" Loki snorted. "Well, to me it is." You sighed. "Okay, look, I understand your worry - but geez... Ease up a bit. I didn't even pass the first trimester. And besides, this is just a charity event. Not in the slightest dangerous." Your husband's jaw clenched, as his brain searched for the right words.

"I know, Y/N. I am more than aware of that, but..." He paused; unlocking his arms to tenderly cup your tiny, almost still invisible baby bump. "We fought so long for this, darling. Against heartbreak, sadness - Norns, even depression, and now that we are finally blessed with this little wonder growing in there, I'm not letting it go again. It was so hard for us to get pregnant. I'm not going to risk it."

You swallowed; raised your hands to cup both his cheeks. "I know, babe, I know..." You whispered; on the verge of giving in - but then you remembered a very important thing. "But you'll be there, too. You can always have an eye on me and protect us. I promise, that I'll never leave your side. And that I'll be careful. Plus, you wouldn't need to worry about our princess as well, 'cause she's more than safe with her grandparents on Asgard. She's already so excited to go there."

You could practically see the gears turning in his head. "How does that sound? What do you say?" A low grumble of disliking rumbled through Loki's chest, but in the end, he gave in with a sigh. A decision he was going to regret later. "Alright, fine."

Only a few days later, you and Loki were on your way to Canada - Calgary, to be precisely; together with Bruce, Peter and Tony. It wasn't a very big charity event, but an important one nevertheless.

Once the Quinjet landed, Tony immediately made sure to get everyone to the hotel you were staying in. After checking everyone in, the billionaire was quick to get to his room. "Alright, team... We'll meet at exactly eight p.m. tonight. No minute later. We have to be on time." He pointed at everyone - the longest at you and Loki. "Especially you two lovebirds. Understood?" Everybody nodded well-behaved. "Sure thing, Mr. Stark." Except Loki. The god just rolled his eyes. Tony ignored him and instead turned on his heels to leave the lobby. "Now if you'd excuse me... I've got a terrible headache, caused by all the sweet talk coming from Laufeyson's mouth. Ta-ta." From the corner of your eyes, you could see Bruce shaking his head. "He's such a diva sometimes." "Sometimes?" Asked Loki in return, causing you - and even Peter to giggle.

Loki stopped mid-sentence, to ask you this question in an almost offended voice, once he had turned to face you. You put the t-shirt in your hands down and looked at him confused; blinking. "Umm... Unpacking our stuff?" He immediately shook his head and walked over to you. "No, you're not." Loki said in a firm tone, taking the suitcase away. "You are going to lay down and rest. We can unpack later or even tomorrow. The flight was very stressful and exhausting - and the next few days are going to be packed and eventful as well. I don't want you to overdo it." "But, babe, I-" "No." He shushed you, placing both hands on your hips. "No excuses. You promised me, remember?" You sighed, knowing that he was right. You did promise him. "Alright, alright, fine. I'll go, lay down."

Loki took your hand and guided you to the hotel room you shared - and it was absolutely beautiful. Modern, luxurious, cosy - perfect for a few days. Tony had planned to take everyone to a few fan events and Comic Con's around Calgary after the charity event. Something you were definitely looking forward to.

"Tony definitely has a nice taste in hotels... Can't deny that. Don't you think, babe?" You looked over at Loki, who had just pulled the t-shirt he wore over his head. "It's more than likely the only thing Stark has a good taste in." You couldn't help yourself but to laugh. That laugh quickly died in your throat, though, when Loki slipped the jeans – which covered his lower body, over his hips and down his thighs; leaving him only in his black underwear - and socks. You bit your lip; tried not to stare or give into your raging pregnancy hormones. It was difficult. So, you decided to stop watching your husband strip and rather start unpacking your luggage. "I'm going to take a shower now, love. It was way too hot in the Quinjet. Stark always pretends he doesn't know that I am half a Frost Giant… And after that, I'm taking you out for dinner. You have to- What are you doing?"

Loki smiled and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. "Thank you." You wrapped both your arms around his torso, in order to hug him. But then another idea crossed your mind, and you let your hands wander down to the waistband of his briefs. "I could join you in the shower, you know..." A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest. You really thought you had him for a minute, "As tempting as this sounds, my queen..." but then he stepped out of your embrace. "But no. Not now. Not today. Please rest. It'll be good for you and the baby." Once again you sighed. It couldn't be helped. Loki stood his ground. "Okay, okay, I give up." Loki smiled and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, "Good girl." before he left for the bathroom.

Later that day, after having eaten dinner, you and Loki got ready for the charity event. While your husband got dressed, you decided to pay the shower a visit as well - for which you took your time. Getting ready for such a big event wasn't just done in a few minutes. Funnily, you had absolutely no idea what Loki was going to wear, so you chose to wear a black, elegant dress, which wasn't too sexy and overdressed, but also not completely innocent. It reached to your ankles and had a slit on the left side of your leg; stopping at your thighs. It was also tight around your waist, but not too tight - since you decided to not show the world (and teammates) yet that you were pregnant again. Okay, admittedly it could be easily mistaken by weight gaining, but you didn't want to risk the rumours to spread. After fixing your hair and applying some decent makeup, you were ready to go. You hoped Loki was ready as well, because a look on your phone told you, that it was almost time - and you didn't want to face Tony's diva wrath.

"Babe, are you rea-" Your words died in your throat, when you closed the bathroom door behind yourself; eyes landing on the god. He sat on the big, king-sized hotel bed; legs spread wide and phone in hands - which wasn't an unusual thing. It was the outfit he chose to wear, that took your breath away...

A black shirt, which hugged his arms and torso snugly; causing his biceps to bulge. The sleeves were rolled up, leaving his forearms deliciously bare. He had left the first few buttons of the shirt undone, exposing his chest in an almost sluttish way. With that not enough... Black, tight suit trousers covered his muscular thighs and legs; held together by an equally black leather belt. All this was paired with shiny, black dress shoes.

"Sweet Lord have mercy... Have you planned to get me pregnant all over again, looking like that, or... Perhaps to kill me?" Loki just chuckled, shaking his head, "Absolutely not, my queen." and stood up, "As much as I'd love to do that, though..." straightening his shirt. "I can't, because I already did." He practically growled; winking at you. "I just wanted to give you something to look at. Besides, it's for charity - and you should look adequate on such a big event, right?" You were speechless. Entranced by his look and the words leaving his mouth.

And if this wouldn't have been erotic enough, he overcame it...

Those wild raven locks of his, were bound together, styled into a high manbun, with only a few loose curls being loose; neatly tucked behind his ears. On his fingers twinkled beside his wedding band a few other rings in black and emerald green; completing his outfit. Loki looked drop dead sexy. You could've jumped him. Right then and there - and he knew. Oh, he knew. The mischievous smile and cheeky look he was giving you said it all.

"You are a naughty, cheeky little shit sometimes, do you know that?" Your husband just chuckled once again and stepped over to you, in order to place his big hands on your waist. "I am aware of that, yes - and I know how much you love it." You smiled; trailing your fingertips over his exposed chest. "Hell yes, I do." He smirked mischievously and leaned down to kiss you passionately.

His oceanic blue eyes roamed over your body then; wetting his lips. "You look absolutely stunning as well, my love. Beautiful as ever. I especially appreciate..." His hand found the slit in your dress; cool palm gliding over the hot skin of your thigh. "...this little feature." You giggled like a schoolgirl - high on love and pregnancy hormones. "Thanks, Lokes - but I don't look quite as sexy as you do. You are going to break so many hearts tonight, babe." Loki shook his head. "That may be true, love, but I'd never break yours. Never." "I know."

About twenty minutes later, the whole team - including Pepper, who joined the party a bit later, 'cause she had a meeting this morning - arrived at the charity event, where already a lot of fans and paparazzi waited... At the red carpet. "Are you ready, my love?" Loki asked; taking your hand into his and helping you out of the limousine Tony had rented. "More than ready."

Together, with the other Avengers you set foot on the red carpet; cameras flashing around you like lightning. Loki kept on holding your hand tightly, not letting you go. He still wasn't convinced of your idea in joining all this - him. You noticed it; felt it. Recognized it in the way he acted around you. "Loki! Loki! Loki!" From everywhere around you, fans (mostly girls, of course) and paparazzi screamed his name; literally praising him like the god he was. But Loki only had eyes for you. He didn't give the people that much attention; his number one priority being you - his pregnant wife and mother of his little princess.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help himself but to throw one of his smouldering looks at the crowd, causing several women to faint - you were sure of it. After that, he redirected his attention back to you. "Everything alright, my love?" You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course. We're good." Loki gave you a smile, then turned to lean closer to your ear. "Stay close to me, please. I know this is just a charity event. And I am also very aware that you can defend yourself, but I told you once and I'm telling you again... I don't want to risk anything. I hope you understand." There was so much love, adoration and worry in his eyes; it almost caused your legs to give in.

Once more you nodded. "I promise. I promised you already." He smiled the softest of smiles and lifted your hand to his lips, earning a lot of coos and 'Aww's' from the hundreds of people at the display of affection. "Thank you. Somehow, I have a very bad feeling about all this. I don't know why, but... It's present." And Loki was proven right with his gut feeling. He watched you like a hawk during the whole evening, but he couldn't prevent it from happening...

The god was talking together with Bruce to a few of the important people who organized this event, when you were approaching the group of men, after getting yourself something to drink with Pepper. "Apologies to interrupt, but… Babe, do you have a second?" Loki immediately turned to face you, "Sure, darling." and placed a hand on the small of your back. "Please excuse me for a moment, gentlemen, but my lady is in need of me." He gave the men one of his charming gentlemen-like smiles and guided you a bit off sides from all the people.

"What's the matter, my love? Are you alright?" "Actually, I feel a bit woozy and..." You grimaced and placed both your hands on your lower abdomen; Loki's hands following suit. "Uh... Nauseous." Your husband frowned. Sure, this wasn't uncommon and it happened when you were pregnant with Ella as well, but that didn't stop him from being worried and protective. "Do you wish to leave?" "No. It's not that bad. I think I'm just going to pay the bathroom a visit; freshen up a bit and take a breath." Loki nodded, "Alright. I'll accompany you." and was more than ready to walk ahead, when you stopped him. "I think I can do that alone. It's just a visit to the bathroom. I won't be gone for long." The god bit his lip; clearly not convinced by your suggestion. "I don't know, I-" "Hey..." You gently grabbed both his hands squeezing them. "I'll be just fine. I don't want to drag you all across the building just for this. Besides, it's the ladies bathroom and you're a man, so..." Loki sighed, but once again, gave in. "Fine. Be careful, yes? And if it gets worse, we'll leave immediately." "Yes, Sir," you promised and pressed a quick kiss on his lips, before you let go of his hands and left for the bathroom.

Both, Loki's and Bruce's eyes widened immediately. They exchanged one look - and started to run, into the direction from where the woman came from. It led both men into the big, fancy stairwell of the building. Scanning the area, they searched for the said men - and found them quickly. They had barged through the doors on the bottom floor and were now standing in the entrance area, looking up. The Hydra logo shone bright on their black battle suits. "Hydra," stated Bruce, recognising the danger as well. "Stark, get your billionaire ass over here. We have a problem." Loki spoke through his little communication device. Not a second later, Tony flew over their heads, dressed in his suit, of course. "Already on it, Reindeer Games." "We have to get all the people out of here." The god nodded; green seidr washing over his body and changing his suit into his armour. "You do that, Banner. I'll go find Y/N." "No. She'll be alright, Loki. She can look after herself. I firstly need your help. I can't get all those innocent people out of here alone. Tony can distract those guys, but not for long."

That was the last time he had seen you for quite a while. At first, Loki was all cool with it, giving you the time to freshen up and calm your pregnancy symptoms - but after fifteen minutes, he got suspicious and an uneasy feeling started to grow within his stomach. So, he started to look around for you; asking his colleagues on the way, if they had seen you. Unfortunately, they didn't...

"Banner... Have you seen Y/N?" The doctor shook his head. "No, sorry. I haven't seen her in a while to be hon-" Bruce's words got interrupted by a loud noise - causing everyone inside the big hall to freeze. "What was that?" Loki's question didn't need to be answered by Bruce. A woman in black high heels and a sparkling pink dress literally ran inside the hall, screaming. "Guns! Gun! There are men with guns!"

Loki didn't like this. Not at all, but he knew that Bruce was right. If he wouldn't help him, a lot of innocent people would get more than likely hurt or killed. "Fine. Let's go." Bruce nodded and started to run off; Loki following him. "There's an emergency stairway, right down that hall. We'll get them out there."

That's what the two Avengers did then. Evacuating all the people. Loki was unable to stay focused, though. His thoughts were constantly travelling to you. He had a bad feeling about this from the beginning - and he had been right. He just hoped that you were alright...

After emptying your stomach one last time, you walked on slightly wobbly feet out of the cabin and to the sink. Looking in the mirror, you noticed that you were quite a bit pale. Well, no wonder. After throwing up that much... Once more you sighed and turned on the tap to splash yourself with some cold water and to rinse out your mouth to get rid of the foul taste. Then you took some more deep breaths and when you felt slightly better, you decided to find your husband and leave. So, you stepped over to the door and opened it - only to walk into an absolute chaos. It was loud. Gunshots sounded from everywhere. Rubble was laying around; the insides of the building was quite a bit damaged. Then you saw Tony in his suit flying around and shooting at something. You blinked. Whatever it was what happened and what was going on... How could you not notice?! Still in some kind of shock, you walked to the still intact railing of the open hallway, in order to find out what the fuck was happening. A mistake. A wrong decision. A decision your still woozy and foggy brain didn't think through. With horror in your eyes, you witnessed the literal army of what seemed to be Hydra men fighting against Tony and Pepper. Help..., you thought. They needed help. You were about to switch into your fighting mode, when you suddenly heard Loki's voice from far away. "Y/N! Watch out!" The warning came too late. Before you could even make out the sniper from across you, the bullet had hit you already. The force of it threw you to the ground. The last thing you heard before everything got dark, was the heart wrenching scream, which left your husband's lips.

While Loki, Bruce, Tony and even Pepper fought the army of Hydra supporter, you were still in the ladies bathroom; not having a clue what was going on. Yes, you had heard a loud noise, but were too occupied with not missing the toilet bowl while throwing up. On the way to the bathroom, your condition had suddenly switched very fast from 'not that bad' to 'I'm going to throw up any minute now'.

Well, that's where you were now... Hanging over the toilet; literally puking your guts out - all the while trying to not ruin your dress and hair. "Oh gods..." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You felt awful. Perhaps it was for the best to accept Loki's offer and return to the hotel. But... What to tell the others? The only people who knew of your second pregnancy were Loki, Ella and Natasha. Nobody else. After all, you told your best friend to not tell it a single soul - and you knew you could trust her, so... Bruce wouldn't know. Just like Tony and Pepper. And you had no intention in telling them. At least not now. You wanted to wait until you passed the 'critical' first trimester. Although, the little Frost Giant inside you was growing fast and soon you wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer anyway. Ugh, you thought. Decisions, decisions...

Loki was powerless. He couldn't do anything about it; was too far away from the sniper to stop him. With wide, teary eyes, he saw your body hitting the ground. For a moment, time seemed to stand still for him. He didn't even notice how he screamed. But then the harsh realisation hit him, and he started to run, getting as fast as somehow possible to you.

His heart was beating fast against his ribcage when he saw your limp, seemingly lifeless body - and the tears started to fall rapidly. "No, no, no, no, no!" Loki didn't care that there was a battle going on. All he had on his mind now was you - and his unborn child. He ran over to you and fell to his knees beside you, gently turning your body around. There was blood and a big, gushing wound on your shoulder. Luckily your shoulder. Loki's shaking hand quickly went to check your pulse. It was there. You were alive. Utter relief flooded his body. "Oh thank the Norns, thank the Norns." He praised; voice breaking. But then he noticed how much blood you were losing and that your bullet wound needed medical attention - unless you were going to die. So, he switched on his communication device. "Banner, get over here. Quick. Third floor. Ladies bathroom." The answer came prompt. "On my way." "Bring every medical supply you can find on your way. And hurry up! It's urgent!"

While Bruce was on his way, Loki sat down beside you. He took one hand of yours into his and placed his other hand on the wound. He wouldn't be able to heal you, but he could slow the blood loss. He closed his eyes for a moment; green seidr starting to flow from his palm. "Hold on, my love. Norns, please hold on. I'm here." Loki squeezed your hand, before he gently let go again to cup your lower stomach. Seidr started to pour out of his other hand as well. He tried to feel the baby; knowing well that it was too early for him to feel him or her. And he was right. He couldn't feel them. He couldn't tell if they were alright or not. With a frustrated groan, he stopped his attempt - just as worried as before. Anyways, he had to try, didn't he?

Only a few minutes later, Bruce came running down the hall. The doctor's eyes widened, when he came to witness the scene in front of him. "What happened?!" It was, of course, as clear as a day what had happened, but the question bubbled out of him nevertheless. "Sniper," Loki answered dryly; then quickly removed his hand, so Bruce could take a look. He nodded; examining your shoulder. "There's an exit wound. That's good. Means the bullet went through. Nevertheless, we have to patch this up. Unless she's going to bleed out. We have to get her out of here." Loki clenched his jaw. "I am very aware of that, Dr. Banner," he hissed. "Just do something. I can't lose her." His teary, frightful and worried eyes met Bruce's brown ones. "Please," Loki added, desperately. The doctor nodded and reached for the medical supplies he found on his way... Plasters, bandages, disinfection, gloves and other things. "I'll try my best to stop the bleeding as good as possible, but- Loki, what are you doing?" Bruce witnessed how the god stood up; eyes focused on something across the grand stairwell. "You got her, Banner?" The doctor frowned, "I-I think so, y-yes, what-" and followed Loki's eyes - and realised. There was a Hydra agent - and Bruce had a guess. He could count one and one together. "Loki, no. Leave him be; I-" The god turned around; the fury and anger in his eyes causing Bruce to clap his mouth immediately shut. "You got her, Banner?" He repeated his question, more firmly this time. Bruce nodded; swallowing hard. "Good." His eyes wandered shortly to the man with bright pink hair again - the one who shot you. Loki recognised him, of course. And when he saw him standing there, he lost it. Completely. Rage was taking over his system like venom. "Guard her with your life," he said and started to walk away; adding in a threatening, dark and intimidating voice: "Or you'll be the next."

Led by his untamed wrath, Loki made his way quickly to that one Hydra soldier; killing every other on his way - without even blinking. He was like in a trance; blinded by his anger. That man had almost taken one of his most precious things in his life away from him - and he couldn't just let that pass. That man was going to pay - right now.

The man with pink hair was about to escape through one of the ventilation shafts, when green seidr hit him; causing him to get thrown to the ground. He tried to reach for his rifle, but the god was quick to kick it away and out of reach for him. Before the man could even stand up and defend himself, Loki had picked him up off the hard ground and literally slammed him against the nearest wall; big hand wrapped around his neck. The man's eyes met the god's furious ones - and he just laughed. "What are you waiting for, huh? Kill me." Loki practically growled, squeezing his neck tighter. "Do you even know with whom exactly you are dealing with and what monster you just unleashed by doing what you did?" Again, the man just laughed - not even trying to fight Loki. "For such a smartass god, you are incredibly stupid, Laufeyson." The god's jaw clenched. He was losing his nerves. "What I did was the only reason I came for. Killing Agent Y/L/N was my job; knowing very well that I'd die here tonight doing it - because of you. So, what are you waiting for. Do it." Those words caused Loki to laugh dangerously - almost hysterically. This man really thought he had killed you. "Possibly. But you are the fool - not me. Being so stupid and trying to take my wife away from me… You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, little mortal," Loki whispered in a threatening voice and started to shapeshift into his Jotun form.

The man's eyes widened in shock. He didn't know. He didn't know. Loki was towering over him now; ruby eyes glowing dangerously red. "Not so brave and impudent now, are we?" The man just swallowed; still gazing at Loki shocked. "I told you. You have no idea what monster you unleashed..." He stated once more, tightened his grip a bit. "Tell me, mortal... You've got a family?" The man nodded, unable to form any words, due to Loki's strong grip. "A wife? Children?" Another nod. "So you are a father, just like me and nevertheless you agree to take the life of an innocent child's mother? That is pathetic. Weak. Cowardly. You disgust me." Loki spat. "And with that not enough... You almost took two lifes." The man's eyes widened to the size of plates; connecting the dots. "That's right. She's with child. I don't know yet if your headless, rash assassination hurt them, but… You better pray it didn't." And again, Loki tightened his grip, before conjuring a dagger - made out of ice, "But... Actually, if I think this through, you don't have to pray, because you won't get to know. It's time to pay." and rammed the dagger into his stomach, causing the man's jaw to drop and a breathless scream to leave his lips. Loki twisted the dagger and let go of him. The man fell to the ground, gasping and gurgling. The god rounded the man – like a predator its prey, before he squatted down beside him, shifting back into his Æsir form. "Next time you try to take my family away from me, do it right - or better... Don't even try it. Although, I highly doubt there will be a next time." With a clasp on the dying man's shoulder, Loki sauntered away. He had to do it. He just had to.

After Bruce had turned the Quinjet on autopilot; giving it the coordinations of the next hospital, which was fifteen minutes away, he returned to you and Loki. He checked on your wound - which was oozing a bit of blood again, but not as much. Loki's seidr and Bruce's pressure bandage had helped, but so slowly the fabric of the bandage turned from white to red as well... "I already informed the hospital. They'll be ready when we arrive," he informed the god, who stared at your unconscious body. "Good." His eyes were focused on your stomach. Loki was utterly afraid and worried, that the blood loss this bullet wound caused, could've harmed the baby. He just couldn't shake off that thought. It drove him crazy not to know - up to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. So, he had no other option but to tell Bruce...

As soon as he had quenched his thirst for revenge, his mind wandered - of course, back to you. So, without further ado, he made his way back to you.

Bruce was luckily still sitting by your side; two lifeless Hydra men laying a few meters away from them. "How is she?" Loki asked immediately. The doctor turned at the god's voice; facing him. "For the moment, stable. I stopped the bleeding, but the point still stands... She needs medical attention." Then Banner looked Loki up and down, swallowing. "Did you...?" He knew what Bruce meant, and nodded. "I had to." Loki stepped closer to you and knelt down, "Let's get her out of here and to the Quinjet." and gently took you in his arms; carrying you bridal style. "Back me up?" Bruce nodded, and turned quickly to Hulk; watching out for any enemies to come your way.

The three of you made it out of the building and to the Quinjet without any further incident. While Bruce started the engines, Loki laid you slowly down on the stretcher. "Stark. Banner and I are on the Quinjet now, bringing Y/N into a hospital and-" "Yes, yes, I know. Bruce told me. Make sure she's alright." "Are you able to make this without us?" "What kind of question is that, Reindeer Games? Pepper and I are almost done here. The civilians are safe and sound and the Hydra men reduced to a group of ten." Loki rolled his eyes at Tony's comment. "Fine."

"Banner, would you check her stomach and lower abdomen, please?" The doctor frowned. "Why? She's been shot in the shoulder, not in the stomach and-" "Just do it!" Loki cut him off; almost screaming at the man. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. Calm down, man." He went to grab a little device and held it over your stomach. Looking down at the miniature display, and not expecting to find something, Bruce's eyes suddenly widened. He lifted his head, gazing with surprise and a little shocked at the god. "Loki, that... There's... Y/N, she... She's-" "Pregnant, yes." Loki finished his sentence. "That's why I asked you to check. Is the baby alright?" Bruce blinked, and nodded. "Y-Yes, I... As far as I can tell, y-yes." "Oh thank the Norns," the god breathed out relieved. He took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, all the while he leaned down to pepper your stomach with little kisses. "Our baby is okay, my love... They are alright - and you'll be too, I promise," Loki sobbed into the fabric of your dress; holding on to you.

As for Bruce, he clearly needed a moment to grasp this. "How far along is she? How... How long do you know?" Loki turned his head to Bruce and smiled through his tears. "About ten weeks. She told me a month ago, right after she found out. Well, Ella told me, but yes..." Bruce couldn't help but smile as well. He was, of course, happy for you and Loki. "Well, in that case... Congratulations." "Thank you. I'm honestly a bit surprised that Romanoff didn't tell you anything." The doctor's eyes widened. "Natasha knew?!" Loki nodded. "She was the only one who knew. She was with Y/N when she found out." Banner nodded, "Makes sense." before he went to land the Quinjet. "Let's get her help - as fast as possible."

"Mr. Laufeyson, Sir." A doctor ripped him out of his thoughts. Loki literally jumped to his feet, looking at the young man with anticipation and hope. "How is she?" "She's alright according to the circumstances." The god let out a deep, relieved breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh Norns… Thank you." "She was lucky that the bullet went through and we didn't have to operate." "Is the baby alright?" Not that Loki didn't trust Bruce, but he'd rather have it checked twice - and besides, Loki had to tell the doctors that you were pregnant anyways. "Yes. The baby is safe and sound." He took a deep breath, nodding. "Can I go to her?" "Of course."

While the doctors looked after you and patched the wound up, Loki sat on a chair in front of the wooden door in the white, empty hallway, waiting. Bruce had returned to Tony and Pepper.

Fear and worry were still very present in the god's head, but also guilt. He felt utterly guilty. Guilty of taking you with him on this damn event. Guilty of not accompanying you to the toilets - as stupid as it might sound. Guilty of not having been able to protect you - and his baby. It weighed him down. And nevertheless... He couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't change the past. It happened; and the most important thing now was that you were going to be alright.

No ten minutes later, Loki was sitting by your bedside; your hand in his and patiently waiting for you to wake up. To his sheer relief, he didn't have to wait long. Your eyes fluttered open; blinking; needing to adjust to the bright light. "L-" Loki was it you wanted to say, but your throat felt dry, causing you to not even get his name out. Your husband reacted immediately, of course and reached for the glass of water on your bedside table; gently helping you to drink. "T-Thank you." "Of course, my love." Then you looked around. "Loki, where... Where am I?" "In the hospital." You blinked, before you started to smile. "I survived this?" Loki couldn't help but chuckle softly. "For sure! Do you think I'd let the most important being in my life die?" You smiled even wider, shaking your head. "See?" Loki smiled as well, squeezing your hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" You shook your head. "No, but... I feel utterly tired." Apparently were the pain killers working just fine yet. "Good, that's good. But you should rest then. Give yourself and our child time to overcome this accident." Your eyes widened on an instant at Loki's words; free hand flying to clutch your stomach (It was luckily not your hurt arm). "Oh my g-gosh, the baby! Are they alright?!" You panicked for a moment, but Loki was quick to reassure you. He placed his free hand on yours. "Don't worry, darling. They are completely fine." "T-Thank god."

Loki's expression changed suddenly; the guilty feeling returning. "My love, I am so sorry. This all is my fault. I promised to protect you... And I failed. I-I wasn't there when you needed me and-" You shook your head, interrupting him. "Let me stop you right there, babe." Intertwining your hand with his, you looked him deeply in his stunning blue eyes. "This is absolutely not your fault. I am the one to blame for this. Not you. I chose to accompany you. I chose to go alone to the bathroom. It was me, not you. You did your absolute best and protected me the best you could." Loki blinked. "But-" "Ah.Ah. No but's. Please... Don't blame yourself."

Your husband took a deep breath; running a hand through his luscious curls. "I... I could've lost you, Y/N. And our child. Ella could've lost her mother." "I know... But you didn't. Ella didn't. I'm here. I'm alive. The baby is alive. We are both okay - and we will make this. My shoulder's going to heal." Despite your words, there was still hesitation in his eyes. So, you tugged gently at his hand, "C'mere." encouraging him to lean down. He did what you asked him to, and leaned down. You didn't hesitate; pulled him instantly in a kiss. It was so loving and intense; almost taking Loki's breath away. "Stop. Blaming. Yourself," you mumbled in between kisses. Loki couldn't help but smirk; brushing your nose with his. "Only if you keep on kissing me." "Pfft," you laughed and shook your head, but kept on kissing him.

Once Loki assured himself, that you were, indeed alright - according to the circumstances, he decided to take a trip home and tell Ella and his parents what had happened. He had to. So, he stayed with you the whole day, night and even the next day, before he left on the following morning; travelling to Asgard.

"My, my, what do we have here? Is this a tea party? And I am not invited?" Loki asked; approaching them. Ella's head snapped, of course, immediately into his direction after hearing her father's voice. "Daddy!" She squeaked out excitedly and scrambled to stand up. Loki knew what was about to come, so he squatted down and opened his arms. Ella came running and threw herself into Loki's awaiting embrace. He swiped her off her feet and lifted the girl up; hugging her tightly. Ella giggled; both her little arms tangling around his neck. "Ah, my little princess... I missed you." "I missed you too, daddy." Loki kissed her cheek, before letting her down again.

"Welcome back, prince Loki." Heimdall greeted him with a bow of his head. Loki gave him a nod. "Heimdall." "Bear my best recovery wishes for her - and congratulations." The prince smiled. "Thank you. I shall do that."

On a horse, the god made his way to the palace. "Greetings, my prince." The guards welcomed him and let him inside, of course, where he asked for his daughter and parents. Loki got told, that Ella was with his mother in the royal gardens and the Allfather caught up in a court meeting with the royal advisors of the king from Svartalfheim. So, Loki went to the gardens. He could already see his princess and mother from afar. They were sitting on a soft blanket, which laid underneath a cherry tree, in order to shield them from the sun. Both of them had tea cups in their hands and he could swear that he also saw two big slices of cake. Loki couldn't help the smile, which spread over his lips at the scene in front of him - and when he heard Ella's sweet laughter, it only widened.

Frigga just watched with a smile on her face. She loved seeing her son being a father. "Mother," Loki greeted her; kissing her cheek as well. "Hello, son. You're back early." At her words, the god got taken back in time; remembering what had happened. "I know. I'll explain. But first..." He turned back to Ella, tickling her. Again, she bursted into fits of giggles. "I'd like to have a biiiig slice of cake. It looks so very delicious. Princess, would you go to the kitchen and ask Bjørn, if he would be so nice and give me a slice?" "O-Okay, daddy," Ella panted; still giggling and trying to recover from her dad's tickle attack. "You're a treasure, thank you." Ella smiled, then hopped away. The skirts of her pink summer dress billowing in the wind; raven curls, which just reached her shoulders, bobbing.

"I have the feeling you want to tell me something without my grandchild listening..." Frigga noted. She wasn't stupid. Loki nodded, "I do, mother." and swallowed. "I... Have good news and bad news." Loki pondered about with which news to start, but then decided on the good news. His parents didn't know yet that they were going to be grandparents - again. Perhaps this was the time to tell them. Well, at least Frigga. He'd come around the next few days to tell his father as well. Actually, Loki wanted to do this with you, but... The current circumstances didn't allow it. Hopefully you wouldn't be mad at him...

"The good news is; Y/N is... Well, she's pregnant again."

For the second time, Frigga's eyes widened - but this time out of shock. "Oh by the Norns! How is she?! Did it affect your child?" "She's alright - according to the circumstances. The bullet went through, so they didn't need to operate. She lost a lot of blood, but we made it in time to the hospital. Luckily, it didn't affect the child. They are safe and sound, steadily growing in their mother's womb." A relieved breath left the Allmother's lips. "Indeed... That's why I am back earlier. I'll take Ella with me now and tell her. Y/N's dying to see her baby again," he stated with a small chuckle. Frigga nodded. "Of course, my son." Just in that moment, they noticed Ella returning - carrying a plate with a big slice of cake on top. "Please greet her and wish her all the best. And tell us if she's getting better!" Loki took his mother's hand and squeezed it. "I will do that, for sure."

Frigga's eyes widened. "Pregnant?" The god nodded with a smile; almost unable to hold back the tears. "Yes, mother. We're having another baby." The queen gasped; hand flying to cover her mouth. She tried to hold back the tears again. "Oh Loki..." She more or less sobbed, before lunching forwards to hug him. "That's wonderful, son. I'm so delighted and happy for you and Y/N." Loki hugged her even tighter. "Me too. I'm honestly a little surprised that Ella didn't tell you. Well, we told her to not do it, but... You know how excited, small children are... We wouldn't have been mad at her if it had slipped past her lips, but well..." Frigga just giggled. "It would've been a great way to find out as well." "Oh definitely!" Loki chuckled; pausing. "I, uh, wish to tell father as well. I'm coming back in the next few days as soon as he has got more time." His mother smiled, "My lips shall be sealed then." but it dropped quite quickly again. "I'm a little afraid of the bad news now..."

"Well..." Loki started; thoughts returning to the accident once more. "We, um, we were on that charity event and... And there was an attack." He fumbled with his fingers. "I swore to protect Y/N and couldn't in that very moment. She's... She's been shot in the shoulder and is in the hospital now."

After Loki had eaten the delicious cake and spent a bit of quality time with his mother and daughter; he decided to return to you, taking Ella with him. They both bid their goodbyes and off they went through the Bifrost; only to land in a hospital - much to Ella's confusion...

"Uhh, daddy? Why are we in a hospital?" The little girl looked around; seemed quite a bit frightened. "Where's... Where's mommy?" Loki's heart felt already heavy; having to tell his child what had happened. He took a deep breath and squatted down in front of Ella, to be on eye-level with her, and took her smaller hands in his. "You know we were away to attend an Avengers thingy?" She nodded; getting visibly more nervous and angsty. "Unfortunately, we've got attacked by some really bad guys and... Mommy got hurt - but she's okay, sweetheart! She has a wound that needs to heal, but she will be perfectly fine!" Loki immediately went to calm her down, since her eyes started to get watery; tears running down her cheeks promptly. "M-Mommy's hurt? What happened?" The god swallowed. "A man tried to shoot mommy and hit her shoulder," Loki explained; gently wiping the little girl's tears away with his thumbs.

"Can… Can I see mommy?" "Of course, princess. That's why we're here." He smiled softly; looking down at his daughter, who resembled him so much. "Come here." Loki then just scooped her up in his arms; hugging her and carrying her to the room you were in. He didn't care that Ella got heavier so slowly; being not a toddler anymore. She held onto her dad, burying her face in his neck and hair. It had been clearly a shook for the little girl to learn that her mother was hurt in a hospital...

Loki gently knocked on your door and waited patiently for an answer. "Come in!" You were awake. Loki freed one hand and opened the door; stepping inside. Your eyes immediately lit up, when you saw your husband and daughter. You were so happy to see Ella. You had missed her - a lot. When you saw that Loki was carrying her, you knew exactly what was going on...

"Princess, hey," you greeted Ella softly, after your husband had carried her over to your bed. She was still clinging to her dad, but when she felt your touch on her back and especially heard your voice, her head snapped to face you. Her cheeks were reddened - just like her eyes, in which were still tears glistening. It definitely teared at your heartstrings. "Oh no, sweetie... Come here." You opened your arm (the one which wasn't hurt) for her. Loki immediately let her down and she didn't hesitate even a second; ran into your arm as quickly as possible. Sure, Ella had to overcome the obstacle which was the hospital bed; but that didn't stop her.

"Mommy," she sobbed; clinging now to you. She may have been already a big girl, but in moments like this, she was still just a child - which was more than alright. "Don't cry, baby. I'm ok." You stroked her hair in a reassuring manner and pressed soft, little kisses to the crown of her head. Exchanging a look with your husband, you could tell that it hurt him as well; seeing his daughter sad and crying. It always did.

Once you managed to calm her down, you were in for a long round of cuddles. Ella laid in your arm, cuddled against your side. At some point she had just slept in. Perhaps from the exciting vacation she's been on. Perhaps from the shock. Anyways, you were just glad she had calmed down - and so was Loki, who sat beside your bed on a chair. His oceanic blue eyes watching over you and his princess. He still had to tell you that his mother knew now about the little wonder growing within you, but that was a story for another time.

#the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki #loki laufeyson x reader #loki angst

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year ago

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Hi, I’ve been reading fan fiction for a long time now and the thought of writing has been at the forefront of my mind. I’ve been writing in my notes on my phone😬but whenever I read something of yours or anyone I’m following, I compare your work to mine and mine’s absolutely terrible. But I still want to post stuff. It doesn’t help that I can visualise the scenes in my head but it’s just writing it out I’m bad at. I’m terrified people won’t like it, tell me it’s sh*t. Then I get that burst of confidence just to do it but then get scared again. I really don’t know what to do, it’s something I really want to do but it’s also something that really scares me to do.

a call to everyone that feels like this ⤴️

Hey!

First of all, thank you so much for opening up and reaching out 💓

I had the same issue/thoughts even after I started posting fanfic on my own. But I wanted to share my work with someone - even if it was just a few people. And fortunately, this fandom is really appreciative of most work that is put out there. You will always get positive feedback - because people are excited to get a glimpse of your imagination alone. It doesn’t matter that it’s not perfect or, in your opinion, well written.

Just take a look at my earlier works. Some of them are really not that great. But it takes something to improve. You just have to make that first step.

Im not gonna lie: At times we will stress ourself out about posting and content. And sometimes we will feel like our work is not good enough, still. Unfortunately, that won’t go away entirely. But it’s good, because it gives us motivation and space to improve and grow with our work.

I know it’s scary to post the first fic, not knowing what the reactions will be. But don’t worry. Don’t be too scared of what other people think. If you have fun with it and want to share it - do it. People will appreciate you’re work. Even if it’s just a few. It took me years to get where I am now and I still don’t get thousands of likes on every fic I post. But I’m proud of each one nevertheless.

So, if it wasn’t clear, I encourage you to finally do it. I, for one, am excited for and proud of everyone that puts their work out there. It takes courage and once you write more, get feedback, and just have fun with it, you will get better 🧡

If you’d like, I can read over some of your fics and give you some tips. Maybe you don’t even need tips. But you’ll certainly never know if you don’t try.

If people are interested, I could also start a “how @ writes” file in which everyone can share their writing process. I am also open to questions about my process if it is of any help - though I know every mind works differently 💫

And one last heart to heart from writer to writer: Please don’t let it consume you too much. Yes, it’s hard not to get enamored by these beautiful universes. But it should never become something that makes you feel pressured or not good enough (stepping over the line of self improvement and motivation that is). It’s supposed to be an outlet - a chance to discover a new talent - and not something that adds to our already stressful lives 💞

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sicks-posts · 2 years ago

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Me again :) Can I request a fic of Yandere!Pixlriffs x Male!Reader? If you take specifics, maybe where he stalks the reader and the reader only finds out once they find a collection of photos of them or smth? just a thought, you can work from there. - 🌠

Of course

I hope I was not make you feel like I was ignoring you

I apologies if they're that much male reader I'm trying my best

I am not good with fic so sorry it's a little bit bad

Also can you tell me what version of a Empire smp like s2 or s1

I apologize for my bad grammar

-Esther

Yandere Pixlriffs

Pixlriffs x male!reader

From season 2

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Gaslighting?

Pixlriffs is little bit sadistic

Stalking

Scopophobia

Possessive behavior

Yandere behavior

If I miss anything please let me know

Also this is kind of short so

I'm sorry if it's short

Is it just you or why do you feel like someone's watching you?!

In the woods, Even in your own Empire even when you walk alone.

you always feel like someone's watching you.

it's odd.

It's probably just mobs...

Right?

but mobs don't spawn in the morning and don't even make the sound of a camera.

But luckily you're good friend pixlriffs is here to help you.

Surprisely when you're with the pixlriffs.

you don't feel like sounds watching you.

you just feel like someone lovesick eyes by watching you.

It's disgusting

M!Y/n : Hey pixlriffs, can we talk for a bit?

Pixlriffs : of course! what is it?

M!Y/n : I always feel like someone's watching me even in the kingdom, even in my own Empire, or when I'm just walking alone.

M!Y/n : I'm worried that this person who's stalking me is planning to attack me.

Pixlriffs : M!Y/n, Don't worry, I won't let anyone harm you or even touch you. Plus we're friends aren't we friends protect each other right?

Pixlriffs 💭 : I want to be more than friends..

M!Y/n : You're right. Thank you!

M!Y/n : I feel a little bit more safer with you, Plus I don't feel like someone's watching me, so thank you.

Pixlriffs : I promise that nothing will harm you or even touch you.

You were looking around in The Ancient Capital.

And still feel like someone's watching you maybe if you go inside a building

They won't watch you anymore..

So that's what you did you went to a random building and hopefully that no one's going to watch you anymore

What a terrible mistake you did my dear.

You enter the building, it was quite nice

You were looking around and then you notice a door on the floor was slightly open.

You're curiosity got the better of you so you decide to open the door.

It was a basement.The stairs quietly long.

You walk down to the basement and your eyes,

A load pictures of you hanging on the wall even on the floor, even of table.

Even some of your stuff was there that you can never find.

So the whole time it was Pixlriffs.

He was your stalker.

He's always watching you..

He can't get his eyes off you...

You instantly run but then you bought into someone causing you to fall.

It was Pixlriffs.

M!Y/n : Pixlriffs! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!? YOU CAN'T DO THIS, THIS IS JUST WEIRD!!

Pixlriffs : what's wrong with me?

Pixlriffs : I'm doing this for you I've been watching you and studying you. I really loved you from the start when I met you you were such a kind person. I am sick and tired of other empires taking you away from me.

M!Y/n : You're disgusting!

Pixlriffs : Me disgusting? How could you say those things I have done everything for you and this is how you're paying me!

He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer to him.

Pixlriffs : I did everything for you to make you happy, but maybe when you wake up you'll be all better soon and you understand, this is all your own good.

Your eyes waiting a bit more when you felt the needle touching your throat.

He passed out on the floor and Pixlriffs smiles.

Pixlriffs : Don't worry M!Y/n, I promise that when nothing will harm you or even touch you. I'm here for you after all we're going to be the best couple in the empire's smp.

He's doing this for your own good so why are you being ungrateful?!

ungrateful boys, don't get a happy ending...

I apologize that this is kind of bad.

Have a good day or night wherever you live!

(⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ

#yandere empire smp #yandere x y/n #yandere x male reader #yandere Pixlriffs #Yandere Empire #obsessive yandere #tw yandere #male yandere #cw yandere

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bye-bye-firefly · 1 year ago

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Rereading Lovefool and Shuichi’s smile being so wide that his eyes disappeared is so creepyyyyy adgggyhjk. Like, I can’t imagine Shuichi ever smiling like that. Also, all the mentions of bugs and stuff are making me scared that like Shuichi’s gonna take off his gloves and just have wasps. The wasps come and call their Yellowjacket brethren. Then I’m foodless and dead.

Really though, the gloves are so curious and the bug mentions feel suspicious and I feel so terribly nervous of Shuichi’s entirety, he’s acting so nice and so weird and it’s mnbhjjhhhjj I don’t trust him or his house or his food or his garden

Or maybe this fic isn’t horror at all and actually what’s in the basement is Shuichi’s secret flower shop. Him and Kokichi have a really sweet heart to heart where Shuichi shares all his flower shop dreams and then they open up a flower department in the mall together.

Anyway, your writing is very cool and I’m gonna try not to think too much about Kokichi wearing flip flops and socks together or how completely accurate that is

i cant get over that everyone is freaked out about shuichi's smile its so fucking funny to me like HES JUST SMILING i was genuinely trying to get it to be like kind of sweet. most people smile with their eyes when i smile big and wide my eyes disappear i was like NOOOOO ITS NOT MEANT TO BE CREEPY WAAAAHHHH but its fine i dont actually care that much. again its funny i think its really funny

i am actually REALLY scared of bugs like mentions of bugs dont freak me out SUPER bad but its still like. fucked up. im very excited to get somewhere with the bug bullshit im SO excited to keep writing chapter 2

yeah hes just got flowers down there. dont worry about it 👍

kokichi wearing flip-flops and socks comes from me growing up with my grandma. grandma koko would always wear flip-flops and socks in the house and on the patio. i think i once asked her about it and she was like Oh this is just normal ^_^ i had inside shoes in japan because thats what my mom liked ^_^ a lot of what i write when it comes to innocuous stuff like that is me remembering her and what she would do. stuff that she would tell me, stuff she would do, the way she would talk (this is more so for an original novel of mine), all that stuff. so do not worry about the accuracy of that i have seen it with My Eyes

#fae's asks #most of the time i stick in those innocuous details when i miss her BUT DONT FEEL BAD #LIKE IF YOU FEEL BAD YOU SHOULDNT.#im not offended or like upset by this i understand the questioning of stuff like that especially when its like.#an obviously more western writer #and it is true that i am definitely western i am for sure a western boy. i am partially japanese #Does not mean that i actually can communicate in japanese.....

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luxshine · 2 years ago

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As I try hard not to let the RRR rot invade my brain, let's go back to Stranger Things for a bit so that rot also invades my brain (yes, there are new ideas for fic there too. My muses hate me)

El should watch Invasion of the Body snatchers. Then she'd knew what is wrong. And I see that Max is a DC fan, and she loves the right character, because Wonder Woman is AMAZING!!!

I see that Nancy and Jonathan did the right thing and called 911. Not that 911 can do anything for Miss Driscoll as I am sure she's going to explode like her rats.

Oh, and I see that the Mind Flayer now looks like a mixture of the Thing and the Blob and the previously mentioned Body Snatchers. Cool. Now if the guys could get together to actually fight it, I want to see Steve cleave the thing (or Billy) with his bat.

His bat needs a name, by the way. Just like Lucille.

Damn. The contusion brought back idiot Hooper. Damn it.

I love Max and Max's room.

Steve has such a confidence in himself. I love him. And Dustin is right there to put him right back in where he should be. Robin is amazing too.

I still want Nancy to go postal at her job. Really, it would be the right way to quit.

GOOD! The kids can stop thinking with his hormones enough to care about the end of the world. Love them.

CARY ELWES AGAIN!!! It's always great to see him, even if he is being a horrible bastard, worst than Prince Humperdink. He does slimy majors very well. And Hooper looks amazing in the Miami Vice attire, even if he doesn't know it. Sheriff vs. Major mud fight! I love it.

OOh... I can see Hooper knows how to go Postal. He should give Nancy some lessons. Gotta wonder if he is fired. Because if he is? Oh, boy, that's some way to quit.

Jonathan and Nancy are a terrible, terrible couple. And Jonathan is just giving her the truth. Yes, the men were horrible and mysoginistic and yes, Jonathan knows more about poverty than that, but yeah, they were INTERNS. And if they break up? Good. Just stay away from Steve.

Meanwhile, the super spy group manages to find the way into the secret russian base without getting fired. Even if they can't fit Dustin there.

Lucas knows that his brother in law doesn't wear shirts. Poor him.

Will is in hell. But hey, Mike had a GOOD idea. That's good.

Lucas's sister is an annoying little brat. VERY Annoying little brat. But she's a good addition to the special anti-Russian Squad. Even if she is a brat. But she's a good negotiator for a brat!

Ah, Cary Elwes. I love him so much. Even if he's so evil. And once again, Joyce is the brains of the Adult Squad. In every squad, the brains is the girls. Teenage Squad used to have no brains, but now we have Robin so she has the brains and the guts.

Nancy has guts, yeah, but she's so lacking in the braincell department that I worry about all the Wheelers.

Holy shit! Mrs. Wheeler had a great moment of motherhood and adult advice. I would be checking for pods in the Wheelers' basement if it wasn't because I know the Mind Flayer is not into parenting advice.

Seeing the kids work again together. I am sorry that Will can't get his apology now, because he is right, he has more important things to worry about, but I am glad that El didn't go all angry at Hooper.

Erica is a brat. But I love her. Even if she's going to forget her unicorn bag and give away the squad. That is telegraphed for anyone who ever has seen a heist movie.

Poor Max. She loves Billy, god knows why, and this is hard for her.

Ok.Nancy has guts. No braincells, but guts. If she was in the DnD party, she could be our barbarian.

Steve and Dustin are brothers. I love it.

I swear, if Steve happens to have brought his bat that I Will name one day, I will love him even more.

I am trying hard not to feel bad for Billy. But the actor is making it hard. Damn it Stranger Things, for giving bullies redemption arcs. I don't want to feel bad for him. But he's making it hard.

El has gotten a lot more powerful. Someone get that girl to read X-men.

See kids, this is why you don't enable a red code plan without Steve and his trusty bat. Mike tried his best, but he is NO Steve and his trusty bat.

No, seriously, El needs to learn about Jean Grey.

Did they kill Billy? Oh, no. He's still up. So we need something harder than a brick wall.

Oh. We're going to need a bigger sauna to get all those people better.

Ok, Stranger things 3, you got my attention.

#stranger things #Stranger things 3 #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin #erica sinclair #the others

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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When Obi-Wan gets to AotC, there's also about two dozen Anakin clones on-site. They're all girls because... IDK Anakin is trans. They have a hive mind and are developmentally a few years younger than Anakin himself.

It's incredibly unsettling to Obi-Wan.

It's almost definitely a "fuck with Anakin's already fragile mental health" ploy by Palpatine, along with a "what if Jedi Black Widows, for me, a Sith Lord. Wouldn't that be neat? That would be neat."

Anakin is torn between "this freaks me out" and "GANG OF BABY SISTERS LET'S GOOOOOOO."

(I just finished reading Like Real People Do by glimmerglanger, so this is definitely inspired by that and the obligatory 'lay back in bed and daydream variations on plot points of that fic you just really enjoyed,' and also a little by Same Heart, Same Blood by loosingletters.)

They're physically like 14-16 on average, and Anakin's vibrating out of his skin with a million conflicting emotions, but when he tells Padme she's just like "oh, you have a handmaiden gang!"

I told this to @willowcrowned and she suggested:

Once Anakin decides to repress the part of him that’s weirded out and just regard them as baby sisters he gets. A little strange about it The first time one of them dies he may or may not slaughter every person he can [in response to Padme's comment] Anakin starts worrying that he needs to get them cool matching outfits

I also chatted about it with @firebirdeternal and they said:

Gang of Unsettling Smol Siblings is exactly the Karma that Anakin deserves

Do you think the Clones have a kind of Collective Name that they use at first that eventually just kind of morphs into a new last name? Skysisters or something? Like Palpatine was trying to be clever and name them like the Nightsisters.

I initially went with "functionally one person" hive-mind but I'm torn.

I think maybe they're BASICALLY one person on Kamino but drift into Separate Consciousness once they're far enough apart physically that their minds don't blend from proximity anymore.

Then they start Dating (like half of them are dating Fett clones because they grew up with these dudes, it's like childhood friends romance), and Anakin loses his mind about Protecting Them and They're Too Young.

Padme: You're nineteen and we just got married, they can date. Anakin: THEY'RE EIGHT. Padme: And the Fett clones are ten and dying for us in the field. Get them rights before you panic about their love lives.

Firebird:

it could be worse, one of them could imprint on Obi-Wan. "Anakin I promise I won't yell at you for the next five stupid things you do if you can figure out a way to stop this baby from having a crush on me" (I like the idea of Obi-wan bargaining not with "I won't be mad at you ever" because they Both Know That's Not True, and instead haggling with specific allowances. Like he's handing out Stupidity Coupons)

Please imagine Mace and Obi-Wan's personal responses to the idea of suddenly having to deal with not one, not two, but OVER TWENTY SKYWALKERS.

Plo is delighted to take one off their hands.

So is Yoda.

Willow:

Mace is like. okay suicide isn’t the Jedi way but on the other hand. i physically cannot deal with this Yoda: a skywalker, you say? one who is tall enough to reach the top shelf, you say? such a skywalker, bring me

Anakin would be given at least one because fuck you, suffer with us, but he's still a padawan so Ugh, fine, no.

I want to say one stays on Coruscant to hang out with the Guard, and ends up half-adopted by Padme. She keeps dressing up the Aniclone left with her in handmaiden outfits and sending selfies to Anakin.

"Hanging out with the little SiL!"

Anakin has so many issues about WHEN his genetic material was acquired.

And there's some confusion from the Fett clones about how much of a hive mind is normal for Jedi. They are confused that the answer is basically none, and "this is WHY nobody clones a Jedi"

ONE OF THEM STEALS BOBA FROM THE ARENA ON GEONOSIS.

Firebird:

"I have followed in our progenitor's footsteps and acquired a sibling." holds up a struggling Boba "He bites."

Willow:

Ooooo okay so if they have a sort of hive mind then they probably don’t have names other than their designations on Kamino right BUT When they SEPARATE The one that picks Boba up on Geonosis gets a name specifically for that. Okay what if the one Padmé picks up gets some variant on ‘pretty’ because she’s always being dressed up BELLE Maybe Yoda’s Ani has a name that means thief? Because obviously Yoda is using Anakin to steal sweets

So, to make the timeline work...

I don't think anyone would give Anakin one of his sisters until after he's knighted at least.

So obviously when they're doing initial placements none of the sisters go to him or Obi-Wan.

Once he's knighted, of course they're already all placed with someone, and Anakin instead gets Ahsoka. He loves Ahsoka. She is also a little sister. He said so.

At some point afterwards, one of the sisters is left without a place because the Master that was in charge of her died in the field battle.

That sister then gets placed with Obi-Wan, because he's already mostly-successfully raised one Skywalker, so he can do it again.

Anakin gets to hang out with her basically all the time.

Ahsoka is very very jealous of this girl stealing Anakin's attention.

Anakin is oblivious to the rivalry.

He asks Barriss to look after them while he's discussing Adult War Things with Luminara and Obi-Wan, and Barriss gets an eye into This Mess, which is quickly colored by Ahsoka growing a puppy crush on the lovely Miss Offee herself.

Firebird:

Ahsoka: Ah yes, my nemesis. Anisister: Ah yes, my new older sister whom I want to impress so bad.

"I will impress her by being Stoic and Competent" "Oh my god she must think she's so much better than me what a bitch"

Anakin is oblivious to most things to be fair Anakin: Laser focused precision fighting machine who can read the tiniest body movements and predict your moves seconds in advance, who also cannot understand even the most basic social nuance. I was originally writing this as to Dunk on Anakin but then I made myself sad, because none of those things are really his fault.

So you know that post about like, Sasuke and Brooding, specifically in the context of "Brooding" as it's used to refer to Nesting Chickens? Grouchy and protective and sitting on a tennis ball trying to hatch it because they're just. "These are my Babies." Anakin Broods. Baby sisters. Must protecc. "I'm actually fine and extremely deadly in combat." "MUST PROTECT."

Bad Guy: [catches Ahsoka in a Trap] Aniclone: Must rescue sister! Aniclone: [fights, is not winning fight, gets ouched] Ahsoka tearing her way out of Trap: I lived bitch. Also: stay the fuck away from her. [murders so hard]

Ahsoka catches the Protective Older Sib feels by the traditional method: "Hey, only I'm allowed to be mean to them."

Willow:

Oh Anakin has no clue what’s going on. He walks in on Ahsoka glaring at the Ani and is like!!! Little sisters!!! Bonding!!! When Ahsoka was about three seconds away from tossing her out of the airlock. Ahsoka mistakenly assumes that Barriss has a crush on the Ani, and gets even MORE jealous.

Obi-Wan is like oh god. I can’t take care of an Anakin going through puberty again. He’s great with periods and other stuff because he read about a billion books. He is TERRIBLE with everything else, as he was the first time.

Barriss is like???? YOU'RE BOTH CHILDREN, PLEASE CALM DOWN, I HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DATING ANYONE, LET ALONE SOMEONE YOUR AGE.

IDK how old Obi-Wan's Aniclone is, probably physically the same age as Ahsoka?

Per @atagotiak on discord:

Also something something, similarities btw Anakin and Obi-Wan where like. "Am I a parent? That seems uncomfortable, I'm too young to be a dad to a kid this age, I mean I'm cool with being a mentor/caretaker but..."

Obi-Wan can't even sidestep parenthood this time.

"Is Anakin basically your dad?" "Uhhhhhh" [Muffled discussion] "So Obi-Wan is your dad." "Okay!" "WAIT NO I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS"

Ahsoka: She's stealing my brother, that BITCH. Obi-Wan's Aniclone: new sister new sister new sister gotta make a good impression

Firebird:

I feel like the Sister Squad would make very effective interstellar espionage agents Even like, kind of by accident. They just get encouraged to branch out in their interests and figure out what they want to do with their lives and end up all over the dang place, and since they're all pretty dang competent they tend to gravitate towards Important Positions wherever they end up. Except for one sister who just retires to raise Space Sheep.

I like that in this AU Palpatine is just like "I will create an army of Loyal Murderers who will obey my every whim and also be a big psychological lever on my Other Pet Murderer," and then they all just Baby Duckling imprint on the first Jedi to be nice to them instead and he has to just be like "Wait no not like that."

AND one of them Steals Boba

I want Obi-Wan's Aniclone to start dating Fives. All the sisters judge her for it, because he's a Goof. A very competent, ARC Trooper goof! But a goof.

Not as goofy as Anakin, though.

Firebird:

Who expects a clone of Anakin Skywalker to not make questionable lifelong romantic choices impulsively?

#Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Obi Wan Kenobi #Disaster Lineage #Sheev Palpatine #Skeevy Sheev #cloning #Yoda #Mace Windu #Skysisters AU #trans anakin skywalker #Phoenix Posts #hive mind #Padme Amidala #Anidala

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noteguk · 4 years ago

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any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no.

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles.

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying.

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower.

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times.

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener.

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync.

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling.

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure.

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell.

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates.

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt.

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night.

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?”

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.”

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...”

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked.

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.”

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated.

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.”

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!”

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said.

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa.

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.”

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years.

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird.

But you also kind of didn’t care.

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?”

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked.

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down.

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?”

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in.

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him.

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind.

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple.

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations.

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?”

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on.

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were.

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.”

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth.

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations.

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.”

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue.

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…”

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them.

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him, meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer.

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry.

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression.

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.”

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.”

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats.

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?”

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.”

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked.

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you.

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips.

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to.

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?”

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try.

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you.

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?”

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you.

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips.

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.”

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered.

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.”

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss.

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream. “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.”

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.”

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.”

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name.

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.”

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…”

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever.

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.”

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.”

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.”

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.”

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.”

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again.

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you.

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts. “Hey, ___?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

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haruhey · 4 years ago

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙

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